Keep a Secret, Share a Secret
by morgana006
Summary: Eddie Nigma tells Robin a secret. Batman/Riddler.
1. The Secret

Batman/Riddler slash, set in something that resembles current continuity (but not quite)

_Batman/Riddler slash, set in something that resembles current continuity (but not quite). Characters not mine, etc etc._

He couldn't, could he?

Eddie paused, his hand an inch from the pile of green papers in his drawer.

_No, Eddie_, he told himself, _you're over that now_.

He took his hand away and shut the drawer quickly.

Eddie Nigma sat at his desk, trying to concentrate on his current case. He already knew who stole from his client, but he wanted to double-check his proof before finishing the case.

He glanced at his e-mail inbox and his answering machine. Nothing.

What he was really stalling for, however, was a new client. There was something about a lack of assignment that made Eddie nervous.

The problem was boredom.

Eddie resorted to riddles whenever he was bored, but he couldn't do that now. No more crime for him. The Riddler had gone straight, in a manner of speaking.

And suddenly, inspiration struck.

He felt a sly grin slide across his face.

He opened his drawer and pulled out a thin sheet of green paper.

--

"Robin."

Tim Drake looked up from his homework. Batman stood there, holding out an emerald envelope.

"Deal with this, I'm busy."

Batman paused.

"Please," he added.

Tim didn't acknowledge Bruce leaving, the same sort of way he was unsurprised by his sudden appearance. He was used to it by now.

He just wished sometimes that he'd, y'know, _not_ do that?

Tim looked over the envelope. Green, addressed to Batman, with a question-mark sticker where the stamp should be. This was curious, considering the Riddler was supposed to have gone straight. He didn't bother to slit open the envelope since Batman had already done it.

He read the beginning of the note:

_Riddle__me__this__ (__for__old__time's__sake__)_:

It seemed to imply that it was nothing but a riddle, with no crime involved. Batman just wanted Tim to solve it, just in case._ No wonder Batman didn't solve it himself_, thought Tim, _He probably couldn't be bothered_. Tim was mildly miffed that he had been assigned the dregs of Batman's work again. On the other hand, his homework was boring and the Riddler was not.

He started to work on the riddle.

_Two__men__are__walking__down__ a __kingly__ road, __talking__ about __the__meaning__ of __life__._

_They__both__ agree __to__disagree__ and __meet__again__in__June__, to __talk__ of __the__same__thing__at__ the __same__time__._

And that was all there was.

The first bit was difficult, but finally Tim figured it out, two men and the meaning of life meant 242. The second bit was referring to June's, a diner on George Street, after King George before the revolution - a kingly road. Tim checked his answer, just to be sure, and sure enough, 242 George Street was the address of June's. "To talk of the same thing at the same time" Tim guessed to mean that the time Riddler would be there would be 2:42.

Tim checked his watch. That was in a few hours.

He sighed and went back to his homework.

--

Eddie checked his watch; it was two forty-one am. He stood outside June's twenty-four hour diner, waiting patiently for the minute hand to move. There- 2:42. He had to enter now to be right on time.

He went in the restaurant, tipping his bowler to a nervous waiter.

"Are you meeting someone?" He asked.

"What do you think?" said Eddie.

"He's at the back."

Eddie brushed past the waiter towards the back of the restaurant. And there, at the last booth…

Hang on, that wasn't Batman.

"I was expecting somebody taller," said Eddie, letting his disappointment slip into his voice.

"Sorry," said Robin, "I'll try to grow a few inches."

Eddie sat down, setting his question mark cane against the table with a flourish. He had to regain his composure before Robin suspected anything.

"It is no matter," said Eddie, "Have you ordered anything yet?"

"So we're actually having dinner?"

"Why else would we meet in a restaurant?"

"You tell me."

"If you have it, you want to share it. If you share it, you don't have it."

Robin thought it over.

"A secret," he said, smiling.

"And there you go."

The waiter came, to ask very anxiously if they wanted anything to drink. His nervousness was not entirely unfounded, considering the property damage costumes normally caused. He bustled off, and left them pretending to look at the menu.

"Should you really be up at this hour?" Eddie asked.

"I'm always up at this hour," said Robin.

"Batman must be a terrible parent."

"Don't worry – he always makes me eat my vegetables."

"I take it you'll order something healthier than just a burger?"

"He's not here."

The waiter came back.

"I'll have a burger," said Robin (he had wanted something else, but couldn't resist).

"A box without hinges, key or lid, yet inside a golden treasure is hid," said Eddie.

All the waiter could say was "Um."

"He wants eggs," said Robin.

"Sunny side up, please," said Eddie.

"Right," said the waiter, and left.

He wasn't the Batman, but Eddie had to admit he enjoyed Robin's company (at least _this_ Robin, anyway). Eddie traced a question mark on the table with some water from his glass, mostly because he could. Robin watched him with suspicious eyes.

"If this is it, I really should be going," Robin said, "I have places to be, crime to fight, you know, the usual."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Eddie. "You've already ordered. I'll even buy you a slice of pie."

"_Fine_. It's not like there's anybody not in Arkham right now, except maybe you."

"I am perfectly sane, thank you very much."

"You sent a riddle through the GCPD just to invite Batman to dinner at two am."

"It's not like he has a phone. 'Hello, Batman old chap, how about some early morning breakfast? Call me after you get this message.'"

The Riddler rolled his eyes and smirked a little. Remarkably, Robin's expression was very similar.

"You could've just sent a note. You didn't need a riddle."

"But riddles are more fun!" said Eddie, grinning at the mere thought of them.

"Oh, you're the very picture of sanity."

Their food had arrived sometime during this conversation, so Eddie, rather than answer that last comment, finally started to eat.

Robin eyed him for a moment and, just as Eddie took a drink, he said, "Were you trying to ask Batman out?"

Eddie did a spit take.

He eyed his now-wet toast and sighed. He really shouldn't have lost his composure.

"Excuse me?" he said, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin.

"I'm just saying."

Robin looked like he was trying not to grin as he took a bite out of his burger. His nose twitched. Eddie thought about it for a second, eyeing Batman's sidekick.

Finally, just as Robin took a drink, he said, "What if I was?"

Robin almost did a spit take.

He swallowed and looked up at Eddie skeptically.

"I was only joking."

Eddie didn't say anything.

"Oh c'mon, you aren't serious."

Eddie took a drink, and this time Robin waited until he put it down before he said anything.

"You're not joking, are you?"

Eddie was now, at this point, blushing slightly. Eddie could feel the heat on his cheeks, something that was so out of character for the Riddler that he knew Robin would notice.

Should he tell the truth? Or something that resembled the truth?

Eddie tapped his fingers against the table, thinking. The question was, would Robin tell anybody?

--

"What did the Riddler want?"

Before Tim answered, he punched out one of the crooks. He watched Batman take out two at the same time and inwardly winced. Bruce was important to him, but Robin just could not understand the Riddler's point of view.

"Nothing."

He desperately wanted to say, "A romantic candlelit dinner with the Batman."

He didn't say it partly because he had promised the Riddler not to, and partly because eating in a Diner wasn't exactly a romantic candlelit dinner.

Tim realized Batman wouldn't be satisfied with 'nothing', however, so he supplied false information.

"He just wanted help on one of his cases."

Which was plausible, almost.

"Hmm."

Tim dimly realized that there was nobody left standing to punch. He stood there, watching Batman tying the crooks up, trying to stop his head from spinning.

"Can I call it a night? I have school tomorrow."

Batman eyed him, but it was hard to tell his expression under the mask. Robin was used to it, so he rightly guessed that it was a suspicious look.

"I also have a headache," Tim said, "Talking to the Riddler does that to a person."

To be fair, that was actually true.

"If you must," Batman said, though Tim could tell he wasn't entirely fooled, "You can get back on your own?"

"Yeah, you just keep on fighting the good fight, Batman."

"See you later, Robin."

That was almost pleasant.

But for the life of him, Tim couldn't understand what the Riddler saw in Batman.


	2. Reactions

Across Gotham City, around the same time, two people were laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, contemplating the exact same thing: the Riddler's relationship with Batman

Across Gotham City, around the same time, two people were laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, contemplating the exact same thing: the Riddler's relationship with Batman.

For Eddie Nigma, the Riddler himself, he was regretting the meeting that took place with Robin hours previously where he admitted to how he saw Batman.

For Tim Drake, Robin the third, he was simply baffled.

They both posed to themselves the same question: Why?

Nigma tore off the sheets and walked over to the window. There was no Bat-signal in the sky. It occurred to him how odd it might appear to some people; to automatically check for the bat-signal whenever looking out a window at night. On the other hand, this was Gotham, so it might not be that unusual. Still.

"Why," he said to himself, clunking his head onto the glass, "Why did I do that?"

"Why, why, why, why, _why_?"

He hit his head again with each 'why'.

Finally he stopped and sat down on the floor.

He'll never be able to look the Boy Wonder in the eye ever again.

_Don't be ridiculous_, he told himself, _You're the Riddler. You're the smartest person in Gotham, except maybe Batman himself. _Maybe_. Robin has no right to judge you and you have no right to do anything but hold your head up high._

Although he did like the current Robin, who seemed smarter than the others, so he had to admit that he wasn't sure how he'd feel if Robin judged him.

But Robin hadn't seemed to judge him, come to think of it, he just seemed surprised.

And before Eddie had made his hasty retreat, Robin had almost seemed…

But it didn't matter. Eddie had lost his composure. The Riddler never looses his composure.

Tim didn't get out of bed. He just stared at the ceiling.

There were rumours, of course. There were rumours for most of, if not all, Batman's rogue's gallery. There were even rumours about Batman and Superman. People assuming there was a romantic or lustful relationship between capes and hoods was part of the job. Sometimes it was even true.

And this was one of those situations.

The Riddler, for god's sake.

Tim was confused, a little. For one thing, he never suspected. But then again, Steph had said he terrible at that sort of thing, and "hadn't been built with a gaydar". For another thing, Bruce was the likable one. Batman wasn't supposed to give anybody those feelings.

Well there was Catwoman. Catwoman liked Batman before she knew it was Bruce, right? And there was that one time the Joker tried to make out with him, though Tim had promised afterwards (to an uncharacteristically embarrassed Batman) not to tell anybody. Although that incident could have just been Joker purposely trying to freak them both out.

Tim thought back to his original feelings. Scepticism, at first. Shock, bewilderment. Amusement.

Wait, _amusement_? Tim sat up, frowning. Did he really think that?

He tried to remember clearly. Yep, there it was. Right after the shock.

_Oh_, he had thought, _well. Riddler and Batman, sitting in a tree. Who would've thought?_

Now he thought about it a little more.

He didn't think Bruce had any clue. If anybody was worse at relationships than himself… and he didn't think it was exactly public knowledge. Especially after Riddler told him that he'd meet an untimely death if he spilled the beans (not exactly the precise words but that was the general idea), and wouldn't even leave a riddle so Batman could find the body.

Tim probably wouldn't tell Bruce anyway. There was a part of him that just wanted to burst it out. There was another part, probably the ruthless crime-fighter part, which wanted to keep it over the Riddler if he ever went back to old habits. He didn't know it yet, but there was a third part that was making plans of an entirely different nature.

He sighed and flopped back down onto the bed. He hated secrets, and the more he kept up with being Robin, the more he had.

Heh. If you have a secret, you want to share it, if you share a secret, you don't have it. That about summed it up, really.

--

The next day passed quickly. In the end, Tim still had more sleep the night before than he usually did. Unfortunately, he wasn't used to this, so he almost felt groggy from too much sleep. The ridiculousness of this did not escape him.

He even managed to go through most of the day without thinking too much about the previous night. School occupied most of his thoughts, and Steph barely beat out the Riddler for second place.

He did let something slip when he came home from school to find Dick Grayson there for a visit.

"Dick! What're you doing here?"

"I had stuff to do with Bruce," said Dick.

Tim deposited his backpack on the floor where it would undoubtedly stay there until later when he would belatedly remember his homework. For now, Tim was glad to see Dick, and the feeling was pleasantly mutual.

They exchanged a short hug and sat down to chat.

"So how's it going?" said Dick, "I heard you met up with the Riddler last night."

"Yeah, that was weird," said Tim.

"What happened?"

Tim thought about it for a second. He weighed the options of telling the truth and nobody being able to find the body later, and telling part of the truth, which would involve no broken promises or angry ex-Arkham inmates.

"I think he was just bored," he said finally, "And a little, um, I don't know --"

Lonely, said the dramatic part of Tim's brain.

"Nostalgic?" said Dick.

"Sure."

Dick raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"I don't know how to explain it," said Tim, "It was just weird, is all. I feel like I missed something. Like I should do something? I don't know."

He fell back onto the couch, rubbing his eyes.

"Nigma was always a little off-putting," said Dick, "A little arrogant and totally enamoured with puzzles as well as other things too."

There was something in the tone of Dick's voice in the last comment that Tim should have noticed, but his brain was distracted by a sudden thought.

"If we're in the area again, I might just ask for clarification."

Although this was mostly for Dick's benefit. Tim had no idea what he wanted to ask Riddler, but at the very least, the man's intentions were clear.

Except they really weren't, were they? Nigma seemed to have no intention of actually making a move on Batman, even though he sent the riddle. He wanted to keep it a secret, except he told Robin. It was somewhat contradictory and confusing.

"If it makes you feel better," said Dick, "You should. But you guys really don't need one of the few villains-gone-straight complicating things anyway."

"Yeah," said Tim, "But if I don't figure this out I think my brain will start to leak."

"It hasn't already?"

"Okay. 'My brain will start to leak again'. Happy now?"

Dick just laughed.

Tim smiled as he made up his mind. Sometime during patrol, he'd drop by the Riddler's for a little chat.


	3. Teamup

Eddie adjusted his tie with a smirk

Eddie adjusted his tie with a smirk. He looked quite ravishing, if he could say so himself. Just put a slight tilt to the bowler, and everything will be perfect. Now, say hello to Robin while he tries to sneak in through the window.

"Hello, Robin," said Eddie, without turning around.

Robin dropped down from the windowsill and tried to act casual.

"You don't seem very surprised."

"I am quite used to strange men coming through my window," said Eddie.

He paused, considering that last statement and its implications.

"Not to mention, bats and their kin are naturally curious, and stubborn, creatures," he continued, "I suspected that you might be dropping by."

He turned around and leaned on his cane, facing Robin, who was watching him with a surprisingly odd expression.

"Right," said Robin, "Anyway. I was thinking."

"You do that?"

Robin ignored that remark. "Yesterday – you weren't just pulling my leg or anything, right?"

Eddie sighed and relaxed a little. "At which point would it be beneficial for me to lie?"

"So you really have the hots for Batman."

"Yes, yes, what's your point?" asked Riddler, rolling his eyes at Robin's choice of words.

"You told me, and then you told me not to tell anybody immediately afterwards. But you're not exactly a teenage girl who confides in her friends about the boy she likes with a wink and a giggle, so why did you tell me? Seriously, if you didn't want Batman to know, or anybody to know, why tell the guy who hangs around him all the time? It's – um, not logical."

Eddie had answers, but he wouldn't say them out loud. He was rash. He was impulsive. He didn't think it through. To be honest, he had no idea why he told Robin. But he did. And now he had to do damage control.

"I trust that you haven't told Batman of our conversation?" asked Riddler, putting a degree of threat into the question.

"You kidding?" said Robin, "Tell Batman? 'Oh, by the _by_, Bats, I had a talk with the Riddler. Despite being one of your villains, he really likes you. You know, winkwink, nudge nudge.' He'd just grunt and say 'Tell him to get in line.' Not that you'd ever actually _try_ anything."

"Come again?" said Eddie, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, your idea of asking him out on a date is by sending him a _riddle_. That's kinda lame, don't you… think…?"

Eddie's face caused Robin to change directions. "Actually, I think I'm going to shut up now."

"My riddles are not _lame_," Eddie said, a little angrily.

"Sorry," said Robin, and he actually meant it, "I might've gotten carried away."

Riddler straightened his hat and sniffed disdainfully. "Ignoring your slight against the riddles… I am smart enough to realize that Batman would never, ahem, well I think you already summed up his reaction."

"I'm not keeping it a secret because I'm a coward," added Eddie, partly to himself.

Now, at this point in the conversation, both participants had started to not actually listen to what the other was saying. Words had been said that caused their thoughts to veer in directions that, interestingly enough, would soon lead to the exact same conclusion.

"Actually, I'm not sure what Batman's reaction would be," said Robin, "I mean, with the proper set up…"

"I would ask the Bat out for a real date if I thought the possibilities of him actually accepting, and if he said he wouldn't come in the Batsuit, although I rather like the batsuit, honestly…" said Eddie.

"I mean, I think he might actually swing that way…"

"If I investigated, perhaps the conclusion would be different… if only I had an inside man…"

"I could help! Let's team up!"

And an agreement was reached. With the help of Robin, the Riddler was going to go on a date with Batman, although neither of them was certain about how exactly this was decided upon.

--

The duo put their heads together and came up with a plan.

Step one: find out if Batman likes men.

Step two: make sure that Batman and Riddler work on the same case.

Step three: have Riddler ask Bats out to a 'casual dinner'.

Step four: hopefully, this would result in a date.

Now, both Riddler and Robin were acutely aware that the plan had some major flaws. Neither of them was unintelligent. On the other hand, neither of them could claim that relationships were their expertise.

"I say we call it 'Operation: This is Totally Going to Fail'," said Tim.

"Operation: Icarus?" suggested Riddler.

"Same thing."

"That was the point."

Nigma observed the scrap piece of paper they had written The Plan upon. The more he looked at it, the more pathetic it seemed.

"There are no riddles in this plan."

"Forget the riddles. Isn't that the point of you going straight? So you wouldn't have to leave them all over the place?"

Riddler sighed. "But I do miss them. And this is an opportunity to use them in a way that doesn't end up with a sentence in Arkham."

"I don't know," said Robin dryly, "I think anybody who falls for Batman is crazy enough for Arkham."

Nigma looked up sharply. "That remark just makes me question your motives."

Robin gazed back at the Riddler, thinking.

He had enough of secrets. If he could somehow resolve this, then it would be one less thing he had to keep to himself. That, and the shock had worn off, and now he just found the whole situation a little bit funny.

"My motives are a little bit of the kindness of my heart," he said as Nigma snorted, "And a little bit for my on amusement."

"That fills me with confidence."

"But I promise I'll help see this through," said Tim, in complete earnest.

Nigma held out his hand. Tim shook it.

"Now, on to Operation Icarus…"


	4. Proof

Finding out Batman's sexual preferences was not something Robin had ever tried before, nor ever wanted to try. He was always a little bit afraid of what he would find.

"Hey Bruce," Tim asked, trying to be casual, "Do you…"

No, no, he was doing this wrong. He stopped, trying to put his words in their proper places. He was having difficulty.

Bruce looked around from the Bat Computer when Tim didn't finish his sentence.

"Do I what?"

"Um. Do you, um, well- see…"

And now was the problem, Tim realized. He couldn't really ask him outright "do you happen to like men?" but he was not a subtle person. What he was good at was detective work.

This was what he would have to do, obviously. "Never mind, it's nothing."

Bruce looked at Tim for a minute with a curious expression.

But all he said was, "Hmm."

Ah, communication, thought Robin wistfully, how I miss you. He left the Batcave, claiming he had homework or something, but he wasn't sure if Batman heard. He had already turned his attention back to whatever case he was working on this night.

Tim thought hard about the whole situation. It was obvious – he was a detective. He couldn't just _ask_ Batman what way he swung (and he refused to believe that he didn't because he was afraid), he had to _investigate_. And that meant going into the lion's den.

That meant going into Bruce's bedroom.

And to do that, he would have to distract Alfred. Bruce probably wouldn't be in his bedroom at all if he was busy with work. But if Alfred discovered Tim going through Bruce's stuff… that thought almost made Tim want to go back and just ask Bruce "Are you gay?".

But the question was, what would distract Alfred long enough for him to be able to go through Bruce's room?

Inspiration struck.

"Alfred, I'm hungry."

Alfred looked up from his dusting. "Would you like me to make you a sandwich, master Tim?"

"Um, no, I uh – feel like vegetables. Better make it a full meal."

Alfred was suspicious. "Vegetables?"

"Yes, exactly! Thanks Alfred!"

And Tim left quickly as Alfred headed to the kitchen. Tim felt kind of bad, since he wasn't really hungry, but told himself that he'd eat it anyway.

Distraction, secured, Tim darted up the stairs to Bruce's room. Cautiously, he inched inside. Now – detective work. Maybe his mentor would have a calendar with all sorts of half-naked firemen or something.

Better start somewhere. He went into Bruce's walk-in closet and started going through his stuff, trying not to disturb anything. He opened boxes, looked through them, and put them exactly where he had found them. He went through the clothing. They were all suits. All of them. Except for a few strange silk robes chosen specifically because they looked like the sort of thing a playboy would wear after a rather good night. There was a rather gay shirt that was salmon-coloured, but Tim didn't think that was sufficient proof.

Suddenly, he hit pay-dirt. In one of the boxes was a stack of magazines. Adult magazines. Tim carefully went through them. Naked women, naked women, naked women. Was this for show, or for real? Most of them were surprisingly tasteful. Go figure.

He almost missed it.

"Hang on a tic."

One of the magazines didn't have women on it. It had superheroes. And Tim had almost dismissed it.

But there was no mistaking the shirtless Booster Gold on the cover.

"He'd do anything for a buck," muttered Tim, flipping through the magazine. Booster Gold was there, but there were more superheroes too – and it was plainly not for research. Not to mention that they were all men – no Fire or Wonder Woman anywhere. Most of the models were merely inspired by the superheroes they dressed as (Tim was rather disturbed by one with Batman and Robin in… suggestive poses), but Booster was clearly Booster.

Was this proof, or not? He went through the magazine, and found another couple of issues. He reached the end, entirely unsure of his findings. He put the box back and grabbed the next one.

Condoms. The box was full of condoms.

Tim almost ran from the room.

Feeling disgusted (and glad he was wearing gloves) he went through the box, and it had a few toys and things – kinky toys and things and… lube? Was that really lube? And – there was a lot of it.

No. Way.

A grin spread across his face. Now this was something. Wait until the Ridder heard about _this_. This was wasn't definite proof – but it definitely put Batman into the 'questionable' category.

But Tim couldn't help but think, as he put the box away, that Batman was clearly prepared for anything and everything.


	5. Slipping

Eddie didn't say anything at first. Possibly because actually saying the things that were running through his brain would be unwise to say aloud and keep his pride intact.

Finally, he said something. "That's certainly… suggestive."

Robin was trying very hard not to grin like a madman. "No kidding."

"I thought that Batman had better taste than that," said Eddie, and after a pause, "Are we going to continue with Operation: Icarus, then?"

Eddie had honestly thought that it would fail at "Step One: Find out if the Batman likes men." Now that it hadn't failed, he was filled equally with a sense of nervous excitement and downright panic, though he managed to keep the appearance of being calm and cool.

He was the _Riddler_, after all.

"You don't sound too sure," said Robin, "You want to back out?"

"Do you?"

Robin put a photograph down on Eddie's desk. It was a blurry picture of a woman and a man, one with blond hair, the other with brown.

Eddie picked up the picture and examined it. "How did he manage to get his hair that blond? It's practically white."

"He's Finnish. Batman's been investigating these two – they've been Bonnie and Clyde-ing it for a few days now, but they've been surprisingly hard to catch."

Robin put another photograph down. "This is Augustus Scott. He's been looking for a good private eye – that's where you come in."

"Offer my services…"

"And you'll have the perfect opportunity to work with Batman."

Robin held up his hands in a mock gesture of humility. "It's okay – I am awesome, you don't need to shower me with flowers."

"Believe me when I say I will do no such thing."

"I get no appreciation. Well, I have stuff to do, crime to fight, you know – the usual. See you around."

Eddie was writing something rather quickly, smiling to himself. Just as Robin climbed up on the window sill, he had to confirm one last thing.

"How _much_ lube, exactly?"

--

It was quite easy to convince Scott to hire the Riddler to solve the case. After all, he had heard of him before. And despite having previously been a masked criminal, he was liked for his success as a private investigator.

Riddler was almost a little miffed that Augustus Scott seemed to treat his outfit more like a quaint eccentric sort of thing, and briefly reminisced about the good old days when the outfit had respect and fear attached to it. He couldn't quite remember exactly when it was, but nostalgia doesn't necessarily require being based on truth.

But nonetheless, Eddie took the case and started to investigate immediately. He wasn't hindered by either daylight or, well, daylight. And he did manage to get some interesting information from Scott that hadn't told the authorities or Batman – for good reason. It turned out that he had hired both of the Bonnie and Clyde-esque duo, Sally and Edvin, as… companions (and by "companions" he clearly meant "prostitutes") at some point in time.

And with that lead, Eddie had something to offer.

--

The Bat-signal was on, and so Batman and Robin came like English teachers to a simile. Gordon handed over the note, written on green paper with purple ink with a question-mark carefully drawn on one side.

Robin tried very hard to keep a straight face as Batman took the note. He just couldn't have resisted, could he? They were only on step two and the Riddler was already tiptoeing around the Plan.

He should have expected this.

"Robin, read this."

And the note was shoved into his hands.

It started with the words, "_I know something you don't_."

Tim could almost hear Nigma's voice, and he inexplicably read it as if it were said in a sing-song mocking sort of voice.

The rest was a riddle, as would be expected. Tim read it quickly, mouthing the words until he realized what it was saying (helped, of course, by the fact he already knew what case the Riddler was working on).

"It's another meeting place."

"Yes."

They said goodbye to the commissioner, and left rather quickly.

"Robin."

"Yes?"

Batman looked stern, although he usually looked stern.

"You met with Nigma the other day, how did he seem to you?"

Tim wanted very much to tell the truth, but he held it in. "Bored."

"Do you think he's slipping?"

There was something odd about the way that Batman asked that last question. As if he already knew the answer but wished it wasn't true.

Tim thought about it. "I don't think he's slipping back into crime – but I think that he's having a harder and harder time keeping away from his, um, eccentricies."

"His riddles."

"Yeah."

Batman didn't say anything for a while, so eventually Tim thought he should say something, but he couldn't think of anything to say. At last, Bruce spoke.

"They aren't that separate. The Riddler's love of puzzles and his love of crime."

And his love of Batman. Tim had to bite his lip to prevent himself from saying it.

"Yeah, well, it's a bit early to make assumptions, y'think?"

Batman didn't say anything, he just kept on driving. Tim sighed quietly. He was sure that this was all going to end in disaster.


	6. Trust

Eddie leaned against the wall, peering out the window. Ah, that was a nice feeling. He had missed that feeling. The apprehension and excitement before Batman inevitably arrived.

The thought that Batman wouldn't be able to answer the riddle hadn't even crossed Eddie's mind; the concept was absurd.

And the sight of the Batmobile driving up the road did nothing to shake Eddie's confidence in Batman.

Eddie adjusted his bowler without really thinking about it and let a smug smile slip across his face.

Time to play the game.

There he was, bursting into the room, in a glorious burst of fabric and several more expressive adjectives. Eddie leaned forward on his Question Mark cane, and grinned up at the Bat and his familiar red and black shadow.

"Riddler."

Eddie's grin widened. "You can have me but cannot hold me. Gain me and quickly lose me. If treated with care I can be great, and if betrayed I will break. What am I?"

There was a pause before Batman spoke. "Trust? Why should I trust you?"

Now for the act. Eddie didn't loose the smile as he spread his arms wide.

"Why shouldn't you trust me?"

"What do you want?"

"A word here, a word there – apparently the Batman is working on the same case I am. And I discovered something from my client that you do not know."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why tell me?"

Eddie's nose twitched. "Male bonding."

Behind Batman's back, Robin twitched, seemingly resisting the urge to roll his eyes and groan.

"And you want me to trust you?"

Eddie shrugged dramatically. "I know something the Batman does not know. How entertaining is that? Not to mention that Robin here may or may not have helped me with my business. And debts are beneath me."

There was a tense moment as the Riddler's smile was a little less broad and Batman's scowl was a little more so, and Robin tried to watch both.

"What do you know?"

Eddie grinned again, a genuine smile, if it could be called that.

"My client hired Edvin and Sally for a particular game. Three beasts with three backs, here tonight, gone by daybreak, hide and seek with three players, the oldest profession doubled…"

Robin cleared his throat. "We get the point."

Batman was thinking, Eddie could tell. He waited, fiddling with his cane as the wheels turned in that marvellous brain of his.

"They had professional names?"

"Yes they did."

Batman didn't even bother asking if Eddie knew what the names were, he didn't need to. Or he wouldn't have, if he was dealing with a normal person who would have been pissing their pants and mumbling everything they knew in short succession, and Batman would have been on his way.

The Riddler wasn't a normal person. Eddie didn't want Batman on his way, with nothing but the back of his pointy ears to satisfy him.

"Let's take a walk," he suggested.

--

The meeting place was quite conveniently on the edge of the Red Light district, and even though Batman suggested that driving might be a better course of action, Eddie insisted on walking.

Batman and Robin stopped a total of twelve crimes during the walk. To be fair, it wasn't exactly the best neighbourhood, even for Gotham.

The club that they finally arrived at was not the most reputable place. It wasn't even on the ground floor. There was a quirky little door covered from top to bottom with pictures of scantily clad (if they were wearing anything at all) men and women. The staircase was covered in a worn carpet of an indescribable colour that could have been red once. Eddie cheerfully led the way.

Ten minutes later, he was following Batman and Robin down the stairs, leaving behind a very frightened pimp who was already making plans for better security, not that it would work.

Eddie was very pleased with himself.

"Now, say that wasn't informative."

"Is that all you know?"

"I know that Sally and Edvin have been doing more than robbing banks. They've been robbing their previous customers too."

"Hmm."

"I have a case, you have a case, is there any reason why we shouldn't work on this together?"

Robin decided to make a suggestion. "It'll keep him out of trouble."

Batman glared at Robin, who shrugged. "Fine. But we don't need three people on this case."

"I'll find something to do," said Robin, almost a little too quickly, "I'm sure there's some sort of crime that I can find being committed. Here. In Gotham."

While he said this, a mugging was going on in a nearby alleyway, and he used this as an excuse.

"See? Now I'm going to go fight crime and stuff. You two have fun. I'll – I'll be over there. Okayseeyoubye."

And Robin was gone.

Eddie turned to Batman with a smirk. "And then there were two."


	7. Lockpicks

"What does this do?"

"Don't touch it."

"..."

Eddie looked around the batmobile, still not used to it, though it wasn't the first time he'd been inside.

"What does that do?"

"Don't. Touch. It."

"Fine."

It really wasn't going as well as he thought it would go. He realized that this was the hardest part of the Plan, and he hadn't even bothered to figure out what would happen next. It was all a blank – he was prepared to give up. Give in the towel. Abandon this foolish mission.

But he had come so far. It might actually **work**. He couldn't give up _now_.

As he wrestled with his thoughts, Batman was relieved he had shut up. Not that it was any better than when Dick was still Robin, and he'd play the "Are we there yet?" game. Batman almost smiled at the memory.

"Are we there yet?"

Not so cute on the grown man.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No."

"...You know, Batman, you aren't the best at communication. This isn't turning out to be the best... male bonding session ever."

"Nigma, I have a former crinimal in my car. I have a case. And you are purposely being annoying."

Eddie shook his head. In reality, he was nervous. But he was also the Riddler – and the Riddler was never nervous (even though he was nervous a good deal). Batman continued.

"You really don't have any room to critizize, Nigma."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You communicate in riddles."

"Touché."

The awkward pause continued, and just before Eddie opened his mouth to continue badgering his companion, they had arrived.

Eddie checked the list they had compiled.

"Emmanuel Rosso. Hired the two regularly. Hasn't been robbed recently, but he seems likely to be their next target."

"You talk to him, I'll keep watch."

"Why don't you talk to him and I'll keep watch?"

Batman didn't even bother giving a reply before he left, darting into the shadows before Eddie had even realized he'd left.

"Right. I'll talk to him."

It was a very nice building, for Gotham. It looked new. Eddie guessed that it was probably built after the quake. He went up to the door of the townhouse and rang the doorbell. No answer. He rang the doorbell again.

"Oh come on, it's not _that_ late..."

There was a crash upstairs and raised voices.

"Huh. Sounds like they have a bat in the belfrey. Hmm, they probably need my help to get rid of it."

He reached into one of his pockets for his lock-pick. Private detectives needed lock-picks, right? It made sense. They might need to break into other people's houses to detect... stuff. Besides, it wasn't like Batman didn't have a lock-pick or two in that _utility belt_ of his. With a grin and maybe a little bit of his tounge slipping out, he unlocked the door.

The crashes were continuing and he heard voices. He listened carefully, and at just the right moment he opened the door, causing the slim brunette to stumble and fall through the doorway, not having expected it to open so suddenly. He caught her with his cane, pulled her forward and grabbed her wrist.

Unfortunately, she was stronger than he was, and soon wrenched herself free. Fortunately, he had a friend. She turned to flee and ran straight into the Batman.

"Sally. Your partner Edvin is tied up upstairs. Now, do you want to fight me, or do you want to give up?"

"I give up."

Eddie hid a grin behind his hand. One of the things he never enjoyed about the old days was the beating up part. But it was fun to see Batman scare _other people_. Reality caught up with him. The case was over. The crinimals caught. He no longer had an excuse to run around with Batman. He had to think of something.

"Nigma."

Sally was tied up inside the doorway. Eddie hadn't even noticed Batman do that. In the distance there were sirens, no doubt heading this way. Or not: this was _Gotham_, after all.

"Yes?"

"How did you unlock the door?"

Eddie tapped his nose mischievously.

"If you have it, you want to share it. If you share it, you don't have it."

Batman held out his hand.

"A secret. The lock-picks, please?"

As Eddie reached into his pockets, grumbling, Batman said an offhand comment.

"Wasn't that the same riddle you used on Robin the other day?"

"Yes it – wait, how did you know that?"

Batman said nothing. Eddie stared at him.

"Oh dear."


	8. Bugged

Spoiler helped Tim cuff the last of the small drug ring he helped her bust. It hadn't really taken that long; they were just street kids that though they knew what they were doing. Steph continued their conversation as they left the alley.

"They seem to team up a lot, for one of his old villains anyway."

Tim sighed. "Yeah, but usually Nigma doesn't arrange to team up on purpose."

"_I_ still don't understand how you two managed to do this all without Batman knowing."

Tim was almost insulted. "What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know. Batman just seems to always know what's going on."

"He couldn't know, he wasn't there."

"What if he was there?"

Tim considered it as they managed to climb onto the roof. Finally, he shook his head.

"He wasn't. If he wanted to know why Riddler called the meeting, he could have just gone himself."

"What if he bugged you?"

"He wouldn't."

Steph snorted. Tim sat down on the roof next to her.

"Batman trusts me."

"What if it wasn't you he wasn't trusting?"

"Huh?"

"I dunno, I just think that if _I_ was Batman, I wouldn't send my sidekick off to face a villain all on his own. _I'd_ go myself."

"He didn't bug me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"But we have to be sure."

Steph said the next bit very playfully. "Maybe I should do a strip search."

She playfully lifted up his cape in a mocking gesture, stopping only when she realized her joke was more insightful than she thought.

"Stop that!"

"You sure he wouldn't bug you?"

"Yes, I'm -- "

She shoved a tiny little bat shaped bugging device into his hand.

"Oh."

Tim got a little angry.

"Doesn't he trust me? I can take the Riddler all on my -"

"He must've heard everything."

Tim paused.

"Everything? Oh no. Oh no. I have to go."

"Robin?"

"Wait here, Steph."

And he dashed off the rooftop, heading towards where he thought Eddie and Bruce would be, cursing under his breath. He couldn't help himself from thinking that it was all planned. Batman probably _planted_ the lube. You stupid, stupid boy, Robin. He kept on critizizing under his breath before he started wondering why Batman hadn't said anything.

He tried to stop, a bad idea since he was just about to jump off another rooftop, and after he managed to pick himself out of the garbage can, he hesitated.

He pictured the scene.

Batman knew of Plan Icarus. Riddler was teaming up with him now. Was it because Batman needed Riddler's help on the case? He could've asked, but they were both a little stubborn. But Batman was more practical than that. Maybe Bruce actually had a sense of humour?

Or maybe he had planned it all along. Like the kid who asks his friend-who-is-a-girl to find out if the girl he likes likes him back. He tried to stiffle a laugh as he pictured Batman poking him towards the Riddler. He stopped when he realized the implications.

"Oh man, that means I'm the _girl_. This sucks."

"Hey!"

Whoops, looked like Steph had been following him. This was going to be one weird explanation. Or he could distract her and act like he had said no such thing. _Much_ better plan.


	9. Not So Fun

Eddie tried to avoid being flustered.

He failed. "You were listening?"

Batman's face was impassive. "I needed to make sure my sidekick was safe."

Eddie thought of all the possibilities. How much did he know?

"The entire time?"

"No."

Oh thank god, Eddie thought.

"Nigma..."

The police drove up. Eddie was briefly distracted, watching them take Sally and Edvin away. He looked back and Batman was gone, as per usual. He scowled. No point in sticking around.

He started walking down the road. It was going to be fine. The Plan was just going to be delayed. Find another case to work on and -

Batman was back.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Forgot something?"

"Drug dealer. Riddler – we need to talk."

--

Tim had convinced Steph that everything was awesome and fine and that he just wanted to check how Batman's case turned out. As he raced across the rooftops he tried to stay calm. Don't get angry – Batman's just paranoid.

He still couldn't believe he got _bugged_. He was fuming. If Bruce had wanted to know what Riddler had thought about him he could have just _asked_.

Tim's thoughts stopped for a second. Wait, that wasn't right. Bruce hadn't known why Riddler wanted a meeting. So he _was_ just worried for his sidekick's safety. Did he stop listenening after he found out Tim was safe? Or did he know about the crush? More importantly, did he know about Plan Icarus? After all, that bug had been on his cape for a few days.

There! Thank god Riddler dressed in green, he stood out. And Batman was with him. They ducked into a nearby alleyway. Tim followed quietly at eavesdropping distance.

--

There was silence, at first. Eddie tried to think but was having a hard time.

He decided to say something. "What is it that you break even if you name it?"

"Riddler- Eddie... I'm sorry."

Eddie's heart was beating so hard he felt it could be audible from space. Since when did Batman apologize.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

Batman looked sad, though it was hard to tell under that mask and cowl of his. "I'm sorry I have to turn you down."

Batman paused, and the way he spoke seemed strangely awkward. "The relationship never would have worked. Batman needs to stay alone."

Eddie felt cold all over. He knew. Oh god Batman knew and he was dumping him before anything could even start.

Eddie pushed past Batman, only one thought in his head: don't let Batman pull a disappearing act on you. Leave first. Keep some pride in tact. He didn't say anything – if he had he might have lost his composure.

He caught the first cab that caught his eye and went back to his office. He closed and locked the door behind him, then walked over, made sure the windows were locked, closed and the blinds were down. Eddie didn't want any flying rodents to bother him right now. He slammed his cane against his desk and sat down hard in his chair. His throat burned and he felt more embarrased than he would if Batman had dragged him off to Arkham in his underwear.

He actually had thought for a split second that the Plan might have actually worked. He was an idiot.

Wait – there was a message on his machine.

--

It was morning. Tim hadn't said a word to Batman, though he had stuffed the bug into his mentor's hands with a glare and a "Don't do that again."

He didn't have school today so he slept in. He woke up around twelve when Alfred knocked on the door.

"Master Bruce has a... visitor. I would advise you to get dressed before coming downstairs."

Tim had mumbled a reply. Half an hour later he pulled himself out of bed and put on a t-shirt and jeans.

He wandered about Wayne Manor, curious as to who Bruce's visitor was. Finally he found them having a light lunch in the garden. He stopped in his tracks, exchanging a brief glance with Bruce.

"Tim! Come here and say hello to the Riddler!"

Bruce's grin was wide and only half fake.

"Uh, hi."

"Riddler, this is my adopted son, Timothy. Tim – Edward Nigma."

Riddler stood up, leaning on his question mark cane and holding out a hand. Tim shook it.

Bruce took a bite out of one of Alfred's famous sandwiches. "I was just telling Eddie how impressed I was with his detective work."

Riddler looked a little smug. "Your father is too kind."

Tim questioned Bruce, who ignored him and said, "I was going to hire him for a job but that fell though. To make it up to him, we're having lunch. It's delicious, isn't it?"

"Wonderful."

Tim was trying to smother a grin. He had a feeling he knew what was going on.

"Right. Well, I'll, um, leave you two gushing over each other and I will go do homework or something."

He made a hasty retreat.

Eddie smiled at Bruce. "It is nice but I should go..."

"Well, keep in touch. Actually, are you busy tonight?"

"Not at the moment, no."

"Excellent. Dinner? Seven o'clock?"

"...That would be nice."

"It's a date then."

Eddie felt warm all over. He fingered his bowler hat as he walked out of the mansion, thinking about a night he had pretended to forget. A night where he revealed he had solved a riddle that no one else had.

So _Batman_ needs to stay alone, huh?

Well, apparently Bruce Wayne had no problem with company.


End file.
